


lights in the dark

by quartzguts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Animal Death, Creepy, Elements of Horror, Gen, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Noctis turns the Ring in his hand, feeling the grooves and divots of it in his palm, the cold gleam of its obsidian shell; the Ring is hollow, and within rest the souls of one hundred and thirteen kings and queens.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	lights in the dark

Luna leans over the back of the seat, fixing Noctis with her unnaturally bright blue eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting. I guess.” Noctis turns the Ring in his hand, feeling the grooves and divots of it in his palm, the cold gleam of its obsidian shell; the Ring is hollow, and within rest the souls of one hundred and thirteen kings and queens. Within rests the soul of his father.

Only his father is here, seated across from Noctis, one leg crossed over the other. His cane is resting up against them. He keeps staring at a point just beyond Noctis’s head, sometimes adjusting his gaze as someone speaks or moves. Noctis imagines he must be ashamed, must not want to look at him anymore.

Luna sighs and slumps over. It’s a distinctly un-Luna-like gesture, but Noctis doesn’t comment on it. If anyone has the right to act strangely, it’s her. She did, after all, almost die, Ardyn’s dagger buried in her belly, spilling her blood out across the Altar. “When do you think he’ll be back?”

“I’m sure he’s hurrying,” Regis says placatingly. Luna hops over the back of the seat—again, unlike her, and although a voice in Noctis’s head says she shouldn’t be able to do that in her tight formal dress, he tells the voice to shut it. Luna can hop over the back of a seat if she wants, just like his dad can use the voice to text feature on his phone if he wants.

_ I am on my way, _ Regis’s phone says. “He says he’s on his way,” Regis says, setting the phone down on the table.

“Whoo!” Luna cheers. Noctis turns the Ring again, watching. Waiting.

Clarus joins them not long after. He’s balancing four trays of bland, mushy food, which he deposits on the table with a grunt. Noctis’s nose scrunches as he takes in the meal; soggy fries melting next to a pathetic looking pile of wilted greens, a cup of pudding, and a drab, slapped together sandwich. His stomach shrivels up and dies.

“What? Too destitute for His Highness’s delicate tastebuds?” Clarus sneers.

Noctis sighs at his uncle’s teasing. The Ring burns a hole in his hand, falls through skin and muscle and bone and clatters onto the floor.

“Woah, hey, grab it before it rolls away,” Luna says, and Noctis cringes, because she gave up so much to deliver the damn thing to him, sacrificed until she’d been bleed dry by the Gods and Ardyn and him and  _ everyone, _ and now he can’t even keep hold of her precious treasure—

Clarus dives under the table and snatches it up, drops it back into Noctis’s hand. The hole is gone, leaving behind only a vague red impression in his palm.

“Are you trying to screw things up?” Clarus says, his voice gravelly and angry. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“Gladio, silence,” his dad says, and the world crashes back into itself.

Noctis blinks away the tears forming in his eyes, glances between Prompto and Gladio and Ignis, feels the Ring singing its power through the veins under his skin. He slides it into his pocket and gulps down his unease.

The tray in front of him is covered with maggots, wriggling in the messy red entrails that spill from Pryna’s gut. She barks at him imploringly.

She’s  _ waiting. _

“I’m not hungry,” Noctis says, and pushes it away.


End file.
